


Pat The Cur

by Hino



Category: Pyre (Video Game)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 07:50:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,379
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11893263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hino/pseuds/Hino
Summary: The Reader has never seen Curs before, seeing as they spent much time secluded in the Commonwealth.They look fluffy.





	Pat The Cur

The Downside was full of things the Reader had never seen before. There were Imps and Howlers and Demons, wagons that rolled across greenery that never existed in the Commonwealth, Books you weren’t exiled for reading, foods they had never tasted.

There were also Curs.

 

Curs were not uncommon in the Commonwealth, but the Reader had been reclusive, trying to keep their literary habits hidden, while providing for themself. It led to a life of secrecy, and meant not getting around a lot, seeing the sights.

This is what made seeing Rukey, the only Cur in the Nightwings, so much more interesting. Once the adrenaline of almost dying had worn off, and the Voice had told them of the Rites, the Reader had taken the time to survey the members of their Triumvirate. There was Jodariel, or Jodi for those who were close, the Demon. She was tall and intimidating, but also kind and polite when needed. Hedwyn was the most like them, a Nomad who’d treated them kindly and helped them back onto their feet.

Rukey was a Cur, covered in white fur, minus the green on his tail. It was the source of his surname, and it stood out, along with his purple vest and assorted accessories. The moment the Reader set eyes on them, they stopped. Rukey looked... soft, and soft things were a rarity in the Downside. They reached a hand out towards him, halting as Jodariel placed a hand on their shoulder.

“We have work to do, Reader,” she said, voice low and warning. The Reader nodded, sparing Rukey a glance before following Jodariel into the dining room where most of the Blackwagon’s activities took place. It was filthy, and the Reader already knew they were scheduled for cleaning. Quietly, they mumbled about how they shouldn’t have to clean a mess they didn’t make. Jodariel said nothing.

 

There was a silence between them as they cleaned. Jodariel dusted the high corners of the commonroom while the Reader swept the floor, finding more dirt than they found appropriate in little corners, most likely swept there by whoever cleaned before and was too lazy to do a proper job.

“Greentail doesn’t like to be touched,” Jodariel said, startling the Reader and making them drop the wooden cup they were holding. It was empty luckily, but it didn’t stop the Demon from glaring at them. “He’ll invite you to pet him if he’s in the mood, but that isn’t often.”

They nodded, placing the cup back on the table and twiddling their thumbs. Had it really been so obvious they wanted to touch his fur? 

“I saw you reaching out to touch him,” Jodariel added, making the Reader laugh nervously. They spoke in a low voice about how they had never seen a Cur properly before, seeing as they were a reclusive adult, and a secretive child, despite their interests and profession. The Demon nodded as they spoke, taking on their words. “Well I must warn you, Greentail is not fond of contact. He is independent, as much as he would have you think otherwise. Babying him with unwarranted pats will not go well.”

The Reader nodded in understanding, sweeping the dirt out of one of the wagon’s side doors. If patting a Cur was going to be so much trouble, they weren’t even going to bother with it. They said as much, and Jodariel hummed in understanding, returning her focus to the cleaning. Nothing more was said as they finished tidying up, with Jodariel only speaking again when she was excusing herself to rest up for the Rites.

 

“Don’t let her scare you,” Hedwyn laughed, entering the common room with a few plates, intent on washing them in the small washbasin they’d made. “Rukey won’t die if you pat him.”

A sigh of relief escaped the Reader as they explained what Jodi had told them. Hedwyn listened patiently, waiting until all the facts had been laid out before mustering a response. “She is right. Rukey isn’t one for babying, or unwarranted pats, but he’ll come find you if he’s in the mood for it.” Setting the plates in the water to soak, Hedwyn dried off his hands before approaching the Reader, placing both hands upon their shoulders and giving a comforting squeeze. “I’m sure you’ll get to pat him. Trust me, he’s as fluffy as you’d imagine.” 

Hedwyn was grinning, and the Reader managed a laugh, encouraged by their companion. Softly, they thanked him, and he ruffled their hair gently in response. “Come friend, let us be on our way. We should try and get to the Ridge of Gol by tonight.”

 

The failed Liberation had been their fault. Their attention had faltered at a critical moment, and the guidance they’d been giving had vanished, letting the Tempers get past them, and extinguish their Pyre. Jodariel was not to go free that night, and although she herself had said that she was not bothered, the Reader had refused to let it go. They had won every Rite up until then, but now, at the Rite that mattered, they failed.

They had climbed up to the top of the Blackwagon to be alone, and the Exiles respected that, as they packed up and prepared to head towards the Moonlit Alcove. Their face was buried in their knees out of anger and frustration, as they muttered to themself the most vulgar of English phrases, not wanting their Sahrian-speaking friends to hear.

“Whatever you’re saying chum, it doesn’t sound too nice.”

The Reader lifted their head to see the Cur on the roof with them, trotting over to sit beside them. “We’ll get it next time! Jodi will cope, she always does. Don’t let her hear me saying it, but I think as long as Hedwyn and the Moontouched one get back to the Commonwealth safely, she’ll be happy down here.”

Wiping at their face, The Reader asked if Rukey would like to go free one day. He laughed, looking to them with a grin. “Of course! Gonna go see Mama Greentail and tell her everything’s better now. Go back and work on the straight and narrow, I promise! Although, I’m not thinking about freedom right now.”

It caught the Reader off-guard. They looked to Rukey with a confused expression and asked what he was thinking about.  
“I’m thinking about how I’ve got a really bad scratch behind my ears. Do you think you could help?” Rukey tilted his head, and the Reader laughed. Hesitantly, they set a hand on Rukey’s fur, movements slow and gentle, as if they were doing something wrong.

Hedwyn had been right. It was waiting for. Rukey had soft white fur, and the Reader couldn’t help but smile as they began to scratch the Cur behind the ears, watching the way he leaned into the motions, and tilted his head to help the Reader get to a better spot. His robes were still on, and the Reader laughed softly as the Voice entered their head, not entirely unwelcome in this moment.

_“Reader, we’re allowed to pat Curs?”_ asked the Archjustice with shock. The Reader laid their thoughts bare, and snickered at the reaction. _“Oh my word, I had no clue. Please do excuse me Reader, I must try something.”_

The connection between them faded, but the good mood the Reader felt had remained. They felt better now, and it seemed as if Rukey had grown content, practically melting at the Reader’s touch. They asked if he would be offended if they carried him into the wagon and continued this little affection session, and he voiced no complaints, letting them scoop him up and scratch under his chin.

 

Hedwyn was just packing up the last of their things when they saw the Reader come down from the roof, Rukey in their arms.

“Was it worth the wait?” he asked, grinning. The Reader nodded.

“It seems you’ve won his affections,” Jodariel commented, stepping into view. The Reader paused, but remained in place, offering an apology once more. “It is no trouble Reader. I am not upset. At this moment, I am more glad you have achieved your goal.”

There was a laugh that escaped the Reader as they ruffled Rukey’s fur.

They’d finally pat the cur.


End file.
